


The Red Sword of Lord Reginald

by cinnamon_owl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 18:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10392924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_owl/pseuds/cinnamon_owl
Summary: Behold the story of a young smith apprentice as she faces a team of devious pirates in order to return her family's property!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think this short story requires any big warnings. But just in case, here's a warning. There is brief use of guns and someone says 'hell' twice.

The sun shone brightly over the port city of Talendale. The city was a buzz with life as people wandered down the white cobblestone streets between the humble wooden houses and shops that wound their way down to the docks. Down on the docks children run around playing as the fishing vessels left for their day of hard work upon the vibrant green sea.

Not far from the docks sat a grand smithy where a smith and her family lived and served the city. Inside Fiona sat at the breakfast table with her mother and younger brothers. Fiona listened idly as the twins chattered excitedly about the upcoming festival, or more specifically, the sword-fighting competition at the festival. Louis, the older of the twins by a little more than a minute, held his spoon aloft as he declared that once he was old enough he would take part in the competition. Anton, the younger twin grinned as he held up his spoon as well, “Same here! And I will win!”

“Nuh uh! I will!” Louis jokingly frowned.

“Says who?”

“Says me. I **am** the oldest.”

“By a minute!”

“That is all the head start I need!”

“We will see about that!”

“Boys, boys. Settle down. I think you both will have a good chance of winning with that kind of spirit.” Their mother said with a soft, warm smile. “You know… You two remind me of a story…”

“The story of the Silver Knight?” Louis’s eyes widened with excitement.

“The one and the same. He was a brave and bold-” their mother paused as someone knocked on the door. She excused herself from the table. It would seem like the story would have to wait for another time.

Fiona cleared the table once her brothers had finished and run off to have their fun. As she set to work her eyes drifted over the many weapons and shields that decorated the house. Many were relics handed down to her family over the generations, and others were pieces done by her mother and herself. As an apprentice smith Fiona was far from perfect, but she was confident that she would become a great smith by the time it came for her to leave home and start her own life.

Her eyes settled on one weapon in particular, a long sword with a blood red blade. It was an odd yet mystifying piece. She could not recall any point in time where it had not sat on its plaque above the fireplace. It was treasured by her mother, and even the patrons who came into the house on occasion would looking at the sword with longing. It was as if the sword enchanted anyone who gazed upon it. Her mother would never dream of selling it, though there had been many handsome offers made. As she finished washing the dishes she tried to remember the story behind it. It had been a long time since her mother had told her the origin of the wondrous blade. Oh yes, it had belonged to her great grandfather Lord-

“Fiona! Fiona, dear I could use your help!” her mother called from the forge.

Snapping from her thoughts, Fiona hustled outside to see what her mother needed help with. As she stepped outside she saw her mother talking with a group of sailors. She guessed that they were merchants, judging from their fine clothes and haughty looks.

“Sweetie, could you made a run to Eliot’s for me? I need you to get some leather. I’m running low and these people have quite an order to fill.” Her mother explained.

“I’ll head right over.” She nodded, giving the sailors a pleasant smile, “Need some arms for your vessel?”

“Can’t have enough, can you?” one of the sailors chuckled, their voice coarse like sandpaper.

“With how tough the seas can be? I’d imagine not.” Fiona replied.

“You have no idea, girly.” Commented another sailor.

Fiona glanced briefly at her mother before excusing herself to go and fetch the leather, commenting that she would not be gone for more than a few minutes.

Eliot’s shop was at the other end of the road, located closer to the city’s center. She had just reached the doorway when a tall, burly man opened the door. He had a pile of hides tossed over one shoulder, and fine linens draped over his forearm. He stepped past Fiona, apologizing for the messy state of his storefront as he tossed down the hides in front of his workbench. He gently placed the linens down on a separate table, adjusting and smoothing them as he set up the displays by his door.

Once he was finished he turned to Fiona, “Now, what can I do for you, missy?”

“I need to buy some leather. Got a big order down at the smithy today.” Fiona explained.

“Ah! Well, you know I have the finest leathers in all of Talendale!” Eliot laughed heartily. He led her over to a rack with newly prepared leather, very animated as he gestured at the leather, “How about leather made from the finest bear hide? Very durable. Perfect for weapons and armor.”

“How much?” she asked.

“Ten silver.” Eliot stated confidently.

“Ten?” Fiona clucked her tongue as she walked over and gently ran a finger over the leather, “I don’t know…” She tapped her chin and furrowed her brows like a philosopher pondering the mysteries of the world, “It seems roughly handled.”

Eliot placed a hand over his heart in mock insult, “Are you doubting the quality of my work?”

“For ten silver?” Fiona smirked at the man cheekily.

“You little imp.” Eliot shook his head and chuckled, “Five silver. That is my final offer.”

“It’s a deal.” Fiona said, happily reaching into her pocket and pulling out five silver coins the size of sand dollars.

Eliot folded the leather and passed it off to Fiona, exaggeratingly opening the pouch on his apron and dropping the coins into it. Fiona had just taken a few steps from the shop when bells began to clang, starting from the docks and then sounding throughout the city. Those bells could only mean one thing. Trouble. She could hear Eliot jumping to his feet and running inside to get a weapon. Fiona’s legs were a blur as she rushed home. The bells started ringing at the docks. Were there pirates? Bandits? Marauders?

She skid to a halt in front of the smithy, finding her mother and the sailors looking like they had been roughed up. “What happened? Are you okay? Where are the boys?” Fiona felt her heart pound.

“I’m okay and the boys are safe.” Her mother explained, “Some pirates rushed the docks. A few made it to the smithy and made off with some of the weapons I had inside the house.” She looked at the merchants with thankful eyes, “If it weren’t for these kind folk… I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Where did they go?” Fiona demanded.

“Girl,” the sailor with the sandpaper voice began, “You aren’t thinking of going after them yourself, are you?”

“I can’t just let them get away with harming and stealing from my family.” Fiona said through gritted teeth.

The sailor laughed, a low, rumbling sound as he got to his feet. “Wilson. Give the girl your gun.” He ordered, waiting for the other sailor to oblige. He bit back a laugh as Fiona gave him a wary look before accepting the pistol. “I like your attitude, girl… But I can’t just let a little lady run off to raise hell on her lonesome. It’s just not gentlemanly.” He winked, “You’ll need an escort on this endeavor.”

A determined smirk crept onto Fiona’s face, “Try to keep up.”

“Haha! I like your spirit!” he turned to Fiona’s mother, “Miss, I promise you I will keep your girl safe. We’ll have your belongings back in no time.”

***

The sailor, who introduced himself as Vincent as they raced across the docks, led Fiona in the direction that the thieves had fled. Their pirate ship was surrounded by guards, so the pirates still had to be somewhere close by. Vince and Fiona crept around the stables just outside the city’s limits when they heard the faint sound of voices bickering.

As the pair crept through the dense forest they spotted the thieves in a narrow clearing. A few large sacks were dropped on the ground, one of which had weapons spilling out of it. Vincent pursed his lips as he looked at the haul, “Fine haul they made… Pity we are going to steal it all back.”

“How are we going to do that?” Fiona whispered.

“These whelps are all bark and no bite. It looks like most of them have already been caught by the guards.” Vincent tilted his head as he listened in to the conversation, which confirmed that many of the pirates hadn’t been quick enough in their escape. “Amateurs.” Vincent sneered.

The pair moved back a bit, hiding behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. Vincent instructed Fiona to fire a few warning shots. The pirates would likely just take off in fear, thinking the guards had found them.

“Huh, didn’t think I’d ever hear someone say ‘don’t shoot to kill a pirate.” Fiona stated under her breath.

“Yeah well… I blame the honour code.” Vincent grumbled.

Fiona paused, clutching her pistol, “What do you mean ‘honour code’?” She narrowed her eyes, “You’re a-?”

Vincent quirked a brow and rolled his eyes, “Okay, okay. Yes, I am a pirate. But right now I’m a pirate trying to help you get your stuff back.”

“Why?”

“Contrary to popular belief, we aren’t all bastards. Some of us even serve the royal family of the province.” He winked. He fought back a laugh as Fiona’s eyes widened, “I see you understand now. Yes… t’is I. Vincent the Cunning, hunter of ships and taker of plunder.” He tipped an invisible hat, “A pleasure I am sure.”

It took Fiona a few moments to process the information. She’d heard stories over the last couple years about a powerful pirate crew led by a man named Vincent the Cunning. The royal family of Fairfields had made treaties and agreements with a couple of the more receptive pirate ships in the area over the last year and a bit. Freedom of the seas so long as the ships and their crews aided in chasing down rival merchant vessels and the more dangerous pirate ships that stalked the ocean waves. Talendale had seen its fair share of pirate raids in the past, and this seemed like a good deal. One of the first to accept a treaty was Vincent the Cunning and his crew.

Fiona pulled herself from her moment of stunned silence, her mouth hanging open like a fish at the market. Finally she managed a sentence, “I expected Vincent the Cunning to be… younger.”

Vincent let out a small snort, “Mouthy aren’t you? Let’s see if your shooting is as sharp as your tongue.”

The pair raised their guns and took aim. Fiona focused her aim at a spot just past one of the pirates’ shoulders. She slowly inhaled as Vincent counted down from three. On two she exhaled, and on one she fired. Her shot rang out, the bullet just nicking the broad side of the pirate’s upper arm. Vincent let off a couple shots as well, which sent the pirates scurrying off into the woods. Fiona and Vincent waited a minute to ensure that the pirates were not coming back to try and retrieve their plunder. Once they were fairly certain that the coast was clear the pair rushed forward, grabbing the sacks of plunder and making their way back into the city.

As they reached the smithy they set down the sacks, opening them so people could retrieve their property. One sack was filled with produce, but two were stuffed with armor pieces and weapons from Fiona’s mother’s smithy. Her mother rushed over and hugged her tightly, glad that her daughter was safe and sound.

Vince grinned as he ruffled Fiona’s hair, “You have some good aim there. With some practice you could become a great shooter… Not as great as I, mind you… But still pretty amazing.”

“Is that an offer for some lessons I am hearing?” Fiona arched a brow.

“Maybe. We could use someone who knows their way around weapons and armor.” Vincent folded his arms across his chest, lifting one hand so he could rest his chin on it, “Would you happen to know anyone with the skills I would need on a ship?”

“I think I might.” Fiona grinned as she looked at her mother, “But that’s only if my master is willing to end their apprenticeship.”

Fiona’s mother furrowed her brows, “I don’t know…”

“There’s no rush for an answer. My crew and I will be here for a few weeks. In the mean time, you and Fiona can discuss the matter at your leisure. If it would put you at ease, I would be more than happy to give you a tour of my ship as well.”

Fiona’s mother gave a slow nod, “We will need to discuss it further, but for now I need to clean up and return my weapons to their proper places.”

Fiona’s mother gaped as she walked over to one of the sacks and spotted a large red blade inside. She carefully pulled it out of the pile and held it gingerly. It’s red blade glinted in the sunlight, even more dazzling than it had been over the fireplace.

Vincent let out a long whistle as he admired the craftsmanship, “That’s a hell of a blade you got there. Where on earth did you get something like that? Did you make it?”

“This? It’s a family heirloom from my grandfather,” Fiona’s mother explained, “You might have heard about him before. Lord Reginald of Herring.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. If you did, let me know. Maybe I will continue the tale of Fiona and Vincent the Cunning.


End file.
